


So Much For My Happy Ending

by MryddinWilt



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genre Twist, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CSSS gift, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9305606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MryddinWilt/pseuds/MryddinWilt
Summary: A Domestic AU with lots of meet-cutes and a twist.





	

The morning wind held a hint of spring as Emma yanked on the door to the coffee shop. She had been living in Boston for three months but had yet to find a regular coffee place. The place closest to her house was too pretentious, the one down the street had good coffee but was always crowded with college students, the one on the corner was decent but the blonde barista kept hitting on her. Emma didn’t think she was picky she just wanted a place that served simple, no frills, quality coffee, without ridiculous lines or having to endure awkward flirting. 

Emma had high hopes that Cafe Hollow, despite its strange name, could be her place. It was painted in rich neutrals and littered with no-nonsense tables, the music was at a reasonable volume, the line was short, and the menu was a simple black signboard with white letters posted above the register offering simply coffee, espresso, Americano, and cappuccino and no option for sizes. Emma smiled–this was her kind of place. 

“I don’t understand. You have milk, you have coffee why can’t you just make me a latte?” The raven haired woman at the front complained in an over-loud voice. Emma rolled her eyes. Why was it so hard to just order what was on the menu? 

“This isn’t Starbucks.” Emma heard a male voice mutter lowly behind her and she nodded 

“How can you even call yourself a cafe if you don’t serve latte’s?” The irate customer’s pitch rose. 

“Seriously?” Emma murmured. 

“Someone should tell her there are four other coffee shops on this block that would happily accept her patronage.” The voice added in a rich English accent. Emma gave a chuckle and glanced back to say hello to her fellow annoyed customer but stopped short. He was a taller man with dark brown hair, a strong jaw covered in scruff, and a mouth quirked into a smirk that Emma found both endearing and dangerous. She gave him a small smile back as her heart did a strange leap and she turned back around to see the woman leaving in a huff. Emma pretended to be interested in the menu as she tried to center herself. It had been a long time since she had felt such an instant attraction–not since Neal– and the thought disturbed her, set all her personal alarms ringing. She ordered her coffee to-go and was striding out the door before the guy had a chance to try talking to her again. 

Emma didn’t go back to Cafe Hollow. She told herself it was because their coffee was weak but deep down she knew it was because she didn’t want to run into “coffee guy” again. She knew it was ridiculous but after Neal, after being abandoned and betrayed, she just couldn’t trust herself or her gut when it came to men. Especially not drop-dead gorgeous men with accents and hair that looked softer than a puppy’s fur. She threw herself into her work that week taking on more skips than usual to make sure she was distracted. 

That’s how she ended up at a bar called Neverland in a skin-tight red dress and heels that were killing her as she waited for her skip to show his face. She was busy watching the door when someone slid next to her. 

“What a charming coincidence.” 

Emma’s breath caught. Seriously? What were the odds? She turned from the door to face “coffee guy”. This time she noticed that he apparently didn’t like to do up the buttons on his shirt and he had a generous amount of chest hair. Despite the warming of her blood, she kept her face neutral. 

“Is it?” 

He chuckled. “You probably don’t remember but we were in line at a coffee shop not too long ago.” 

“Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

He kept his smile but Emma saw a flash of disappointment behind his eyes and it made her want to come clean. Instead, she walked away and out of the bar. She was halfway home before she remembered that she had been there to do a job. She caught the guy two days later coming out of his girlfriend’s house. 

Four days after that Boston was hit by a late Spring storm and Emma found herself trudging down the street trying to avoid the patches of ice as she ran down a lead on an embezzler. Her head was bowed against the cold when someone slammed into her and she went sprawling to the ground with them on top. When she finally registered who it was she cursed. 

“Damn it.” 

It was “coffee guy” and this time he was so close that she noticed a strange gold halo in his blue-green eyes. 

“Apologies. I slipped and–“ He cut off as his eyes widened in recognition. “It’s you!” 

He looked so utterly delighted with the turn of events that Emma felt herself flush. Was it possible he thought of her as often as she thought of him? Because she did think of him and found herself wondering just who he was and if he was as interesting as his accent and face suggested. But thinking about him was far different from having him on top of her and she felt her need to run rising up inside her. She pushed at his chest and he rolled off of her. Emma got to her feet awkwardly. 

“At least tell me your name?” He asked from the ground. But she ignored him and took off as fast as possible, half-worried he would chase her even as she was sure he wouldn’t. 

Despite her desire to not see him again, Emma found herself looking for him and she told herself it was only to be able to avoid another meeting. A week past with no sign of him and then two and Emma began to relax, the universe had given up on throwing them together. In the middle of the third week they found asbestos in her apartment and she was told she needed to be out by Friday.

It seemed almost impossible to find a temporary, furnished, place on such short notice. Everything she looked at was either far outside her budget or not available for weeks. She had lived out of her car before and could do it again but she thought she had put those days behind her. Desperate she refreshed the web page and a new listing appeared. With low expectations, she clicked on the link and was pleasantly surprised by the photos of a spacious apartment even better located than her place. The rent was reasonable, it was furnished, and available on a month-by-month basis. Worried she would miss her chance she pulled out her phone and sent a text. 

_ Is your room still available to rent? _

_ I posted it ten minutes ago… _

_ So that’s a yes?  _

Emma knew she probably wasn’t making the best first impression but she was too anxious to care. 

_ Yes. It’s available. _

_ I’ll take it.  _

_ You don’t want to look at it first? _

_ No. Pictures look great and it’s only temporary.  _

Emma’s stomach rolled as she waited for a reply. She needed that place. 

_ I’ll pay you three months in advance.  _

_ Welcome aboard. I will take down the listing. I get home around 6 come by anytime after that.  _

_ K. See you then. _

She gave a little fist pump and knocked her hand into the roof of the bug; ignoring the pain she smiled. It was the victory she desperately needed this week. She wasn’t worried about living with a stranger; she had spent her whole life living with strangers in foster homes and was pretty sure that whoever her roommate was she could handle it. 

That evening just before seven Emma parked her bug outside the apartment building and sent a text to let them know she was on her way up. Then she climbed the three flights to the door with a shiny “J” on it. She knocked and waited with only mild apprehension. The door swung open and Emma’s jaw dropped.

“Seriously?” 

Standing before her was coffee guy in a black v-neck sweater, jeans, and a smile on his face that was both shocked and pleased. 

“Well, lass, this is serendipitous.” 

And she knew it wasn’t his fault, that it was the universe punishing her by throwing him in her path over and over when she had decided to never see him again, but she couldn’t help being angry. “That’s one word for it.” 

He chuckled, his voice deep and rich. “Now is that any way to treat your new roommate?” 

As she looked at his smug grin she thought about turning and walking away but that would mean sleeping in the bug or spending a fortune on a hotel room and tomorrow she would be right back to apartment hunting. 

She sighed and stuck out her hand. “Emma Swan” 

“Killian Jones” He shook her hand slowly his thumb rubbing against the back of it. She pulled away. His forehead crinkled and she wondered if he felt it too that weird jolt of electricity–the feeling of deja vu when they touched. But if he did he didn’t say anything he just turned aside and swept his arm out. “After you, milady.” 

And it was a ridiculous thing to say but he somehow made it sound almost normal. When she walked by she noticed that his left hand wasn’t a hand at all but a prosthetic. She didn’t call attention to it but wondered again just what his story was. 

The apartment looked even better than the pictures which annoyed Emma. As he gave her a quick tour she was careful not to look at him and focused on her surroundings instead. When they got to the bedroom that would be hers and he asked if she had any questions she finally turned to him. 

He was leaning against the door frame smiling as he watched her and the only question she could think of was if he always looked so damn attractive. She frowned. 

“It’s an apartment, not rocket science,” she replied. 

He smirked. “Ms. Swan I think this is the start of something beautiful.” She gave him a sarcastic smile. He pushed himself off the doorframe as he dug into the pocket of his jeans. “Here is your key.”

Emma held out her hand and he dropped the key into her palm. 

“I made enough dinner for two if you are interested in fish and chips.” 

“Not hungry.”

He paused giving her a searching look before nodding and leaving the room. 

Emma sank down on the bed–it was soft and she was pretty sure the sheets and duvet were new–and rubbed the key absently. She thought briefly again of just walking away but then chided herself. She was an adult and while Killian Jones was handsome and attractive there was no reason they needed to become involved just because they lived together. Plus she had a sneaking suspicion that if she walked away they would just end up meeting again. She gritted her teeth and then dug into her wallet for the rent money. 

She set the cash on the table next to his food. “Three months as promised.” 

He didn’t even glance at the money, just fixed her with a wide grin. 

“I’m going to get my stuff.” 

He half-rose. “Do you need a hand?” 

“Is that a joke?” She said flatly and then felt cruel when she saw the way his smile tightened. “It’s just a few boxes.” 

He shrugged. “If you insist.” 

Emma appreciated him not pressing the issue or making a big deal about her lack of stuff. When she came back up with her boxes he was gone and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

She didn’t see him the rest of the evening–probably because she didn’t leave her room until she was sure he was asleep in his–and the next morning she got up early so she could avoid him again. When she got home late that night there was a note and a plate of food in the microwave but no sign of her roommate and Emma didn’t check to see if he was in his room. She managed to almost entirely avoid him for a week before the early mornings and late nights caught up with her and she woke up with a headache and lungs full of congestion. She still tried to work but her brain was too foggy and halfway through the day she went back to the apartment. She ended up on the couch heavily medicated and watching The Office. Somewhere between Jim returning and the beach party she fell asleep. 

When she awoke it was to the sound of someone in the kitchen. She laid there wondering if she could wait for him to leave and then slink off into her room but then she got a whiff of what he was cooking and her stomach grumbled. She let out a groan and sat up. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Killian said in a far too chipper tone. 

She glared at him; with matted hair, runny nose, and couch cushion creases on her face she was anything but beautiful. He grinned back as he moved toward her with a steaming bowl. 

“Is that?” 

“Soup,” he finished as he offered the bowl. “I also made grilled cheese if you are interested.” 

Emma felt her mouth water and she must have made a face because Killian’s smile grew as she took the bowl and wordlessly he went back to the kitchen for the sandwiches. 

They ate in silence. Emma too hungry to be polite and Killian too polite to try and make small talk. She did keep darting glances to him and occasionally caught him studying her as if she was a math book and he was trying to work out her equations. When she finished she put her bowl on the table and looked at him. She felt suddenly awkward. 

“Thank you. For the food.” And she hoped he understood that she meant not just the soup but all the meals she had found waiting for her each night. 

He hummed and gave her a look that was familiar though she was positive she had never seen it before. It was mischievous as if he wanted to tease her but was holding back. And her sickness had definitely lowered her barriers because she found herself half-smiling at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh, I was just thinking about the many ways a person can show gratitude.” And his tongue darted to his lips in a way that spelled trouble. She rolled her eyes. 

“Okay, buddy. While you do that I am going to bed.” She stood up and immediately regretted it. Her vision swam with black and she felt herself sway. Killian was suddenly before her his hand and prosthetic at her shoulders. She blinked and waited for the dizziness to clear and when it did she was confronted with Killian’s concerned blue-green eyes. 

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“You sure, love?” 

She nodded and he moved back but when Emma took a step the dizziness rushed up and she swayed again. Strong arms came around her and before she could protest she was being lifted up. She was too disoriented to even protest as he carried her toward her room. 

“Don’t worry, Swan. I tend to have this effect on women.” And despite feeling like a rung out dishtowel Emma smiled into his chest. He laid her gently down on her unmade bed and then disappeared only to return with a water bottle and some pills. “Now take these and get some sleep,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. 

“Aye, aye Captain.” 

He looked surprised for a moment and then nodded. “Right. I’ll be outside just call if you need anything.”

He walked out and closed the door quietly. Emma took her medicine and turned over in her bed, her heart swelling with something foreign. It felt nice to have someone take care of her. To be sick and but not alone was a new experience for her and instead of giving herself a lecture she gave a little smile and then drifted back to sleep.

The next morning there were eggs waiting for her and a note in a flowy script encouraging her to get better. That night Emma made dinner for the both of them and when Killian came home she didn’t run into her room but stayed and ate with him. The only indication that he noticed a change was the occasional arching of his eyebrow and the twitching of his lips from a suppressed smile. They talked and Emma was relieved to discover that Killian was both interesting and funny. 

It turned out that he worked on a sailboat taking rich tourists out on the water or doing private cruises and had a wealth of stories to share. When Emma told him about her job he grinned. 

“I knew you were a tough lass.” 

She tried hard not to preen at his compliment. It was a nice change to have a guy impressed by her profession. After they finished eating he insisted on doing dishes and though Emma slipped back into her room immediately she didn’t set her alarm for an early wake-up. 

After that Emma no longer tried to avoid Killian. They would get ready in the mornings on top of each other. Trading off shower time and brushing their teeth together became a habit. There were a few awkward moments– like when she forgot her robe and had to run to her room in nothing but a towel or when he came out of his room with his dress shirt unbuttoned and Emma spilled her milk in her distraction– but none of it made her want to go back to avoiding him. If they were both home at night, which happened more often than not, they would have dinner together and watch something on the TV. It became easy and familiar in a way Emma hadn’t thought possible and she wondered why she had resisted getting to know him in the first place. 

Killian never asked questions about her past and it took Emma awhile to realize it was because he didn’t want to answer questions about his. And that was something they shared in addition to their sense of humor and taste in food. Killian continued to make the occasional innuendo but he never tried to push their relationship beyond a friendship and Emma was grateful that he wasn’t interested in over-complicating things. But there were times when she caught an expression or look in his eyes and she knew that if she gave him proper encouragement he would be very eager for some complications. But being friends was as far as Emma would allow herself to go and most days she was bewildered at her letting him in even that far. After two weeks she started to feel an impending sense of doom. There was no way her life could ever be this good.

Weeks went by and nothing happened. Killian didn’t get on her nerves or suddenly reveal himself to be an ax murderer. He was sensitive, funny and kind, and she found herself wanting to be around him and texting him during the day. Work was profitable and her skips easy to find. Life was practically perfect and Emma continued to distrust it. When would the other shoe drop?

She started to pick fights with Killian. She gave him a hard time about the volume of the television or leaving dishes out but he didn’t rise to the bait; just gave her a searching look or a sarcastic comment. She wanted him to push her away, to prove what she knew deep down was going to happen eventually, he would get bored with her, he would leave her. And when he didn’t she just got angrier. So she decided to leave instead. 

She was in the middle of packing her clothes when he got home and started calling for her. 

“Swan? I’m too tired to cook. I was thinking of ordering take–“ He paused in the doorway. “What’s going on?” 

She refused to look at him. “I am moving to New York.” He didn’t respond. Her declaration hung between them as she continued to throw things in her box. His steps were heavy on the carpet as he moved behind her. He placed a hand on her arm but she shook it off. 

“You can keep the rent money I won’t need it.” She ignored his proximity. There was another loaded pause.

“Don’t run away from me.” His voice was thick with emotion and she couldn’t stop herself from turning to look at him. 

His eyes pierced her and struck at her already aching heart. “Emma, please stay. I know you are scared but give me a chance.” 

Her heart hammered in her chest as she swayed toward him. “I can’t take the chance that I am wrong about you.” 

“I would never hurt you, Emma.” 

She looked into his eyes, so open and honest, and knew he was telling the truth. In that moment she knew he wouldn’t leave her or let her down like so many others had. On instinct, she closed the distance between them.

The kiss was intense, their lips sliding and tongues tangling, but also achingly familiar; as if she had kissed him before and somehow forgotten it. When she broke the kiss, Killian chased her lips and she smiled as he drew her back in. It was a perfect moment but in the back of her mind she felt a twinge of disquiet. She pulled away.

“This is wrong,” she murmured. Killian’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Not you,” she shook her head and stroked his cheek “It’s something else, something just not right. We aren’t supposed to be…” she trailed off.

“Emma I have no desire to pressure you. If you still want to go–“

“No.” She surprised herself with her vehemence. “It’s not that, not anymore. It’s just everything. My life is too good, it’s too easy. Does that, does that make any sense?” Emma was sure she sounded like a lunatic but then Killian’s forehead creased and he nodded. 

“Aye.” 

“Really?” 

He scratched behind his ear. “It’s strange because I feel happy but I also feel as if I don’t deserve to be happy. As if I am not worthy of such a life.” 

“Exactly! It’s like a happy ending in a fairytale but fairytales aren’t real.” Killian smirked. “What?” 

“Oh nothing, love, but I do believe you just called me your happy ending.” 

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I said.” 

He hummed looking unconvinced and so she punched him which earned her another knee-weakening kiss. 

This time when they broke apart she licked her lips and caught her breath before speaking. 

“I’m serious Killian this just doesn’t seem real.” 

And the moment she said it she felt a thrill of truth run up her spine. Startled she looked around the bedroom and suddenly felt that she was looking at a painting–an approximation of a room, not a real place. 

“Well, you just had to go and ruin it.” 

Emma jerked from Killian’s arms to turn and see a smug-faced, blonde, teenage, boy leaning against her doorframe. 

“Bloody hell.” 

“Who–“ Emma started to ask but before she could finish she knew the answer. “Pan” 

The magic fell from her mind and she remembered. After they rescued Neal she had gotten separated from the group and wandered until she had run into Hook. Then Pan had shown up spouting nonsense about giving the Savior a happy ending. 

“You know this magic has kept men occupied for years. Remember Starkey Hook? How he loved getting lost in my little paradise?”

“Starkey,” Killian said like it was a revelation.

Pan nodded. “But you Emma, you can’t even be distracted for one night with your happy ending even with your pirate along for the ride. Magic gave you a perfect little life and you still had to find fault in it. Guess you really are a little lost girl who can never believe that she will be happy even in her fantasy land.”

Something in Emma snapped and she rushed at Pan but as she did the room melted away and she found herself surrounded by a thicket of bushes.

“Damn it.” She kicked at the air wanting badly to hit something. She spun around to see Killian, back in his pirate clothes and lost in thought. She knew they should probably talk about the weird spell they had been under but she needed to get back to her parents and to save Henry. How long had they been under the spell? It had felt like months but Pan had said it had only been a night. 

“Do you know how to get back to camp,” she asked abruptly. 

Killian snapped from his thoughts and looked around. What he saw in the never-ending green Emma didn’t know but he nodded and began to move. 

They walked in silence and while Emma was worried about her family she couldn’t help thinking about what had just happened and what Pan had said. Had the magic truly given her a happy ending or just a twisted version that Pan thought she would enjoy? It wasn’t that she hadn’t been happy it just hadn’t felt like true happiness. Maybe because real happiness needed to be earned? Killian was just ahead of her and she wanted to ask him what he thought but he didn’t seem interested in conversation. It was probably for the best since she was still trying to reconcile Captain Hook with the roommate she had been living with for months. 

When they emerged into the camp everyone came running. Her mother and father asked where she had been while Regina’s eyes darted between her and Hook as if that was all the explanation she needed. 

“Pan caught us in some magical trap,” Emma explained. “But…uh…we escaped.” 

“How?” Regina asked infusing the word with more skepticism than Emma had thought possible for a single syllable. 

“The demon underestimated Miss Swan. A failure in judgment I believe you share with him.” 

Emma felt a swell a pride at Killian’s words. 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” And mercilessly the subject was dropped. Emma darted a glance at Hook intending to thank him but he was moving away and her mother was drawing her close. 

“Neal went looking for you.” Mary-Margaret gave her a look that Emma pointedly ignored. She really didn’t have room in her head to deal with Neal or her mother’s not-so-subtle hints about him. 

“Yeah well, looks like I didn’t need his help.” Emma winced at the bitterness of her tone. “Sorry. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” 

Her parents nodded sympathetically. 

“Of course Emma we understand,” Mary-Margaret said. 

“Actually we should go get Regina to call Neal back with that magic walkie-talkie thing,” David said. He planted a kiss on her forehead and then pulled his wife away with him. 

Emma sighed. Having parents was harder than she imagined as a kid. Maybe that’s why they weren’t part of her little fake reality? Too much complication? Or maybe Pan was right, maybe she was too broken to ever even consider loving parents or family a possibility in her life. 

Lost in her thoughts she wandered over to the fire where Killian sat staring into the flames with his flask in hand. She stood looking at him for a long moment but he didn’t acknowledge her presence. The Killian she had shared an apartment with had been all smiles and innuendoes but Emma realized that had been part of the unreality–Killian wasn’t Killian without his brooding.

She sat down beside him but not close enough to touch. 

“Killian, about what happened–“

“You needn’t worry, Swan. I won’t divulge your secret.” 

“No. I’m not worried about that.” He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “I want to understand how the magic worked. Did Pan create it or did I create it or was it a little of both of us?” 

He gave a harsh chuckle. “Oh, I think it’s rather obvious it was Pan’s creation.”

“Why? Because Henry wasn’t there?” 

“That and the addition of a certain devilishly handsome suitor are pretty big clues.” He gave her a mocking smile. “Pan overestimated my charms when it came to you, love. And in doing so gave his game away.” He tipped his flask toward her before taking a long pull. 

Emma opened her mouth to contradict him and then closed it. The happy fantasy version of Emma had taken months and lots of serendipitous events–probably intervention by Pan now that she thought of it– before she had been able to let Killian in, what chance did regular, lost girl, Emma have? And yet she couldn’t let Killian think that she felt nothing for him, that the reason the fantasy had fallen apart was because she couldn’t, even under influence of magic, imagine being with him. 

“I think it was a bit of me and a bit of Pan.” 

Killian snorted and Emma could see he was determined to believe that she didn’t care. Stubbornly she continued.

“You and me that’s not what gave the magic away.” 

“No?” He tossed her a carefully bored look. But she wasn’t fooled she could see the spark of hope behind his mask. 

“Naw. It was the apartment. A place that size in central Boston, for that price? That’s the real fantasy.” 

His laugh was short but genuine and the smile that lingered after told Emma that he understood, that he was willing to wait for her to figure herself out, just like he had in Boston. And as she stood and moved to her bedroll she wondered if maybe her and Killian being together wasn’t so much of a fantasy after all.


End file.
